


This is me.

by Kori_chan_draws



Series: finding home (and yourself along the way) [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Trans Character, Trans Thomas Jefferson, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 14:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13765869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kori_chan_draws/pseuds/Kori_chan_draws
Summary: "Be a true Southern lady," her mother had always said. "Hold your head high. You are a beautiful woman."“I’m not,” she whispered. HE whispered. He stared at the notebook. A sentence was written there in his elegant handwriting. Underneath the sentence, ‘He/Him’ was written in uncertain, yet beautiful strokes.Jefferson circled the two words one time, two times, three times. This felt right. So right. Underneath the circle, he wrote a new sentence."Jefferson holds his head up high."





	This is me.

**Author's Note:**

> This deals with different aspects of gender. I hope that I represent everything correct; if anything bothers you, please feel free to contact me.
> 
> WARNINGS: panic attack, transphobia, t-slurs, explicit transphobic violence  
> If anyone wants to skip the scene with the violence, slurs, ..., please skip the scene that starts with "Two days before he would go to New York again, his mother found the notebook." and start again with "Alex looked up from his phone as he heard the one next to him vibrate." I will post a summary of the scene in the end notes.
> 
> Please tell me what you think!

17-year-old Marie Jefferson did not know her cousin well. She knew that his name was Gilbert. She knew that he lived in France. She knew that he had spent some years of high school in New York. She knew that he looked similar to her (at least, he did on the photos – they both shared their curly hair and many remarkable facial traits). But that was about everything she knew when she entered the plane that would take her to Paris.

She was going to spend the summer with him and his parents, so that she could practice her French, and for her parents to have more time to work. They always found one way or another to keep her busy when she was home from her boarding school, and this year, they decided to send her to France. While Marie was quite excited to go there, she was also worried. What if she and Gilbert didn’t get along? They didn’t know each other, after all.

When she got off of her flight after eight hours, her neck was stiff and her back hurt. She took her backpack and went off to find the baggage reclaim, when she was suddenly tackled and almost thrown to the ground.

She yelped and looked up in shock. What met her eyes was a face that looked far too much like her own, with big brown eyes, dark skin and shiny white teeth. She frowned. Actually, the face looked _far_ too much like herself. There was a certain femininity underlying the masculine facial structure that Marie didn’t understand at first; only after a few seconds, she realized that Gilbert must’ve been wearing make-up.

“Marie! It is so good to see you here! Welcome to France, mon ami!” Gilbert didn’t give her the time to respond before he kissed her on both cheeks, wrapped his arm around her and started talking. “Did you have a good flight? I remember that my flight back from the U.S. was horrible. I booked the wrong one by mistake, and I had to change airplane at three stops! It was horrible.”

He kept on talking and talking, never giving Marie the time to say anything, until they had picked up her luggage and were on their way to the taxi stop. That was when Marie finally stopped him. “So, uh, Gilbert? Why are you wearing make-up?”

His smile faltered for a second, before it was back on with full power. “Why, because I like it, of course.”

“But aren’t you, like … a boy?”

Gilbert took her hand and started walking again. “Well, first off, boys should be allowed to wear make-up too. It is stupid that they are not. They would look so much cuter. And second, I am not.” He shrugged. “I am nonbinary.”

Frowning, Marie pulled her hand out of his and wrapped it around her body. “What’s that?”

“Well … It means that I am neither a boy, nor a girl. It means that my gender identity doesn’t fit into these two categories.”

“I … see,” she said at a loss of words.

Gilbert shrugged. “You will probably get used to it. Just, please don’t call me Gilbert, I don’t like the name too much. Gil is okay, Lafayette is fine, as is Laf. And if you can, please use they/them pronouns, alright?”

Nodding slowly and storing away the information, Marie bit her lip. How awkward was this? Probably just something to gain attention over. She had to read it up on the internet later on. For now, she would just go along with it. It didn’t hurt her to follow Gil’s wishes.

 

*

 

Two months later, their time together had gone to an end. Marie was devastated that she had to go back to the U.S. while Gil would stay in France.

“Don’t worry, mon ami, I will come back to New York in a year,” they said at the airport before kissing both of her cheeks. But even though they tried to hide it behind a smile, they also had tears in their eyes.

Marie wiped her eyes and nodded. “And I will try to come to Columbia as well. I just wish that I could spend this school year here with you …”

“I know, love.” Gil gently wrapped their arms around her again. “You have to go now. Can’t miss your flight, alright?”

She nodded, holding on to him for some more time before reluctantly letting go. “I will write you.”

“I look forward to it.”

And then she was gone, back on her plane to Virginia.

 

*

 

When her parents’ chauffeur picked her up, she asked her about her summer during the car ride.

“And how was your cousin?”, she asked at some point. “Was he nice?”

“They,” she corrected absentmindedly, looking out of the window. “They are … the best person I’ve ever met.”

 

*

 

When college started, Marie moved to New York full of expectations and hope. She could finally choose her own course of study, focus on the things that interested her (which were a lot) and live on her own, outside of the stifling boundaries imposed by her boarding school. But the best part was that she could see Gil again. She had missed them so much over the last year. Her single room in school had felt lonely after spending two months on a mattress next to Gil’s bed, and she was so excited to finally talk to them again.

When she arrived at Columbia, she was assigned a room in the girls’ dorm. Something in her twisted as she walked by the boys’ dorm, a wistful agony to stay there instead. _Because of Gil_ , she told herself. She knew that they would be staying in there.

When she arrived at her room, she found out that she lived together with a girl from New York. Angelica Schuyler, who majored in gender studies, was a force to be reckoned with. She had strong opinions and stood up for them. She was caring and loving when she talked to her friends, and fierce when she talked to her enemies.

They got along. While they had some differences when it came to their political believes, they could have become friends easy enough. However, when Marie went to get food with Angelica that night, they ran into one of Angelica’s friends, and that was that. It took two seconds from the moment when Alexander Hamilton opened his mouth, to the moment when Marie decided that she could not stand him. He was loud, obnoxious, and rude. Jumping off into a rant about politics and economics, he took up the entire conversation.

Finally, Marie decided that she couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh, would ya shut up? How is it fair that a person who has never worked a day in his entire life gets everything for free by the state, while people who earn their money fair and square have to give it away?”

Hamilton stared at her for a moment before his face twisted into a sneer. “Wow, Angie, I didn’t know that your roommate was a full out republican. I bet she came here with her all-out Southern republican values, a gun tucked in her bag and all that racist and homophobe shit.”

Marie narrowed her eyes. “I am black myself, idiot, how should I be racist? And I don’t have anything against gay people or whatever.”

“So you didn’t vote the Republicans at the last election?”

She bit her lip. Of course, she had voted for them. How should she ever support the Democrats with their crazy ideas for the economics? She had thought about voting third party, but her father’s words had stopped her from that. _Third party voters are just stupid weaklings who can’t decide on anything. And a true Jefferson will never vote for the Democrats …_

Hamilton smirked at her. “I thought so.”

“Just fuck off …”, Marie muttered, turning away and purposefully bumping into Hamilton’s shoulder with hers. She ignored Angelica, who called after her, and went to leave the coffee shop, when she was suddenly grabbed by her hand.

“Marie, mon ami, it is so good to see you!” Gil looked at her with a huge grin, and for a moment, the hot anger and frustration in her stomach began to melt away. Then Gil looked over to where she had come from, and gasped. “You have already met Alex? He is my roommate, we were the best friends when I was here for high school.”

Betrayal that was beyond anything Marie could explain washed over her, and she pulled her hand out of Gil’s forcefully. “Yes. We’ve met.” With that, she walked out, making her way back to her room.

 

*

 

Two weeks later, Angelica was out for her morning classes, while Marie was taking a shower. She always timed that so that she would be alone in their room, being used to the privacy from having a single room for her whole life. So when she stood there, wearing nothing but some panties and a bra, and the door suddenly opened, she jumped back and pulled her blanked in front of her body in less than a second.

Angelica stared at here, bewildered. “Chill. I just forgot something.”

Marie nodded hastily, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Which did not work. Her hands were shaking furiously, and she had tears in her eyes. _Just breathe_ , she told herself. _Nothing happened, she didn’t see you, everything is alright._ Still, her breathing got faster and faster.

Then there was a hand on her arm. She jumped back again, clutching the blanket tighter to her body. “Don’t touch me!”

“Okay.” Angelica lifted her hands so that Marie could see them. “Okay. I’m not touching you. But calm down. Breathe, okay?”

She tried. Couldn’t Angelica see how hard she tried? But every breath hurt, and she still breathed too fast, but she didn’t get enough air, and …

“Mon ami.” Soft dark hands on hers. Bigger than hers, long fingers, dark blue nail polish. “Breathe with me, okay? Breathe in. _Un._ _Deux. Trois. Quatre. Cinq._ Good, now out. _Six. Sept. Huit. Neuf._ Good.”

Slowly, her breathing went back to normal. When she could finally concentrate on the face in front of hers, she noticed that there were tears on Gil’s face, strains of mascara that run down their cheeks. She lifted a shaking hand and wiped them away.

Gil smiled. “You with me again?”, they asked softly.

Marie nodded and looked around. Angelica was gone. She was alone here with Gil. “Thanks.” Her voice sounded rough and scratchy.

Gil pressed her hands again and kissed them softly. “Do you feel better now?”

She nodded. Suddenly, she remembered that she didn’t wear anything besides her underwear, and tugged the blanked closer around her. Gil seemed to notice her discomfort. “I shall wait outside while you dress, yes?” Without waiting for her answer, they went outside and closed the door.

 

*

 

After that incident, Angelica was very careful when she came back to their dorm unannounced. She made sure to text Marie in advance, knocking on the door, and so on.

Marie hated it that Angelica went through so much trouble just because of one small incident. But she was also thankful beyond belief.

 

*

 

When Christmas rolled around, Marie asked her parents if it was okay for Gil to spend it with them. She had often sent them photos of the two of them over the course of the term, trying to enforce the family connection. But her parents said no.

“It is not like we don’t want to meet him,” her mother had said. “But we will be very busy, it wouldn’t do any good to force him to go to a different state, right, darlin’?”

Of course, Marie had agreed, trying to hide her disappointment.

When she arrived at home on Christmas eve, her father had scowled at her clothes in disapproval. “You won’t wear those baggy things here. I have business partners over all the time; I won’t have you run around like you live on the streets.”

Marie went to her room with slouched shoulders. She pulled off her Columbia sweatshirt and jeans, instead going for a purple blouse and black skinny pants. She hated it.

 

*

 

When they sat down for lunch the next day, Marie’s father began to talk about his business right away. After some time, the conversation strolled towards Marie’s studies.

“And have you finally decided on a major?”

She nodded and smiled happily. “I want to take a double major, actually. Political Science and Philosophy.”

It was quiet for a second. Then, her father shook his head. “Columbia has a good law program. You will take either that or economics.”

Marie’s stomach turned as she thought about protesting, but in the end, she murmured a quiet “I’ll look into it”, and that was that.

Later on, her mother asked about Gil. “So, how is your cousin doing? Did he adapt to live in New York again?”

“They,” she corrected. “I think so. A lot of their friends from high school also go to Columbia, and they are good at making connections, so they have tons of social contacts already.” She smiled a bit as she thought about Gil’s SMS from this morning, when they had wished her a Merry Christmas, followed by tons of heart emojis and Santa Clauses. “They’re also really popular with the professors. And of course, they’re smart.”

“I don’t understand how Columbia has accepted someone like him …”, her father growled under his breath.

Marie looked at him in confusion. “Why?”

“Just look at him. All this make-up wearing, what kind of man does that? He’s just a freak.”

Marie froze, staring at him with wide eyes. Her mouth almost agreed with him. She almost said, that yes, Gil was nothing more than a freak. Almost.

“You’re wrong.”

It was quiet for exactly three seconds. Then, her father put down his fork. “What?”

“I think that you’re wrong,” she said. “They are not a freak. Just because they’re not a boy or girl … doesn’t mean that they are worth less … or …” By the end of the sentence, her voice got more and more quiet.

Her father’s face was pale from anger, his lips pressed tightly together. “Go to your room, young lady. I want to hear nothing more of this nonsense.”

She flinched violently. At his tone, she told herself. It was just a coincidence that it happened at the same time he called her ‘lady’. “But, dad, I-“

“Go!”

Swallowing, she got up. “Yes, father. I’m sorry, father.”

 

*

 

On New Year’s Eve, her parents went out to celebrate with some friends. Marie had skyped with Gil a bit earlier, but they were on a party that night. Marie was at home alone. She picked up her books and sat down on her bed, deciding to use the time for studying.

After some time, she decided to take a break and scroll through her Facebook for a bit. An article popped up. _He/They/She – the importance of pronounce_ , it said. Marie realized that Gil had shared the article and she had seen it because of that. She clicked on it, reading through it with a frown, chewing on her lip.

At the end of the article, she was smiling.

 

*

 

Marie looked at the notebook in her hands. The words there looked so right. They shouldn’t look right. They shouldn’t look as if her whole life suddenly made sense.

Marie had always felt uncomfortable with certain aspects of her life. She had always felt self-conscious about certain clothes, clothes that left her too exposed or put too much focus on her body. When she had hit puberty, she had sometimes felt so wrong that she got sick. _Just the hormones_ , her father had told her. Some words had always rubbed her the wrong way. _Be a true Southern lady_ , her mother had always said. _Hold your head high. You are a beautiful woman._

“I’m not,” she whispered. _He_ whispered. Shaking his head, Jefferson felt tears stream down his face has he stared at the notebook. A sentence was written there in his elegant handwriting.

_Marie Jefferson holds her head up high._

The ‘Marie’ was scratched out. The ‘her’ was scratched out so often that it was completely invisible. A ‘his’ was written over it. And underneath the sentence, ‘He/Him’ was written in uncertain, yet beautiful strokes.

Jefferson put the pencil to the paper again, circling the two words one time, two times, three times, tears still streaming down his face. This felt right. So right.

Underneath the circle, he wrote a new sentence.

_Jefferson holds his head up high._

Yes, this was it. This felt right. He could do without a first name for now. This was enough for now.

 

*

 

Two days before he would go to New York again, his mother found the notebook. She had been cleaning up his room while he was in the music room, using the last days of his break to play as much as he could. He missed his violin and his piano when he was at college, but playing music was forbidden inside the dorms. Maybe he could still bring his violin and use one of the practice rooms that were normally reserved for the music students.

His mother opened the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Marie, come to your father’s study.” Her voice was rough and cold.

Confused, he set down the violin and followed her to the study, trying to ignore the way his stomach clenched at her words. He had a bad feeling about this, one that he couldn’t really place. At least not until he saw the notebook lying on his father’s desk.

He froze when he saw it, blood running cold. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t find out about him, not like that. He took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from the notebook, looking directly at his father. “You wanted to see me?”

The man stood up from his chair, stepping around the desk and fixing Jefferson with his dark gaze. It was quiet for some time. Jefferson wanted to do nothing more than run to his room and hide for an eternity.

“What is this?”, his father finally asked, flipping open the notebook and pointing at the sentence.

Jefferson tried to find words, but they failed him. All that came out were stuttered bits and pieces of sentences. “That’s … I don’t know … Father, I …”

“Quiet! Stop stuttering and answer me. Is this who you are? A dirty tranny?”

He flinched violently, as though he had been slapped. “Father, please, I … This is … who I am. I can’t change that.” He was outright crying by now. “I am not your daughter, and I have never been. I just didn’t realize it … I … I am your son, I am a boy, and you …”

He felt the fist connect with his jaw. His head snapped back and he stumbled backwards a few step, gasping in shock. “You are no child of mine,” his father growled before hitting him again, this time hitting his eye. Jefferson’s knees gave out the moment the words hit, all power suddenly drained from his body. He felt kicks raining down upon him and curled in on himself, trying to protect his head and face.

After what felt like an eternity, the kicks stopped. His father stood over him, panting. When Jefferson opened his eyes, he could see his mother standing by the door, tears on her face, looking to the side.

Then his father opened his mouth again. “Get out of my house.”

 

*

 

Alex looked up from his phone as he heard the one next to him vibrate. He picked it up and took a look at the display, sighing in annoyance. “Laf, your cousin wrote!”

“What did she write?”, Lafayette called back from inside the bathroom.

Alex stood up and got closer to the door so that they could hear him better. “Asks if you’re here tonight.”

“Can you write back?” Alex could hear the shower turn off. “Tell her I’ll be home and ask what’s up?”

“Sure thing.”

Alex then sat down on the bed, opening Jefferson’s chat on Laf’s phone, and typed a quick response. He put the phone down next to him and went back to playing 2048 on his own phone.

After some time, Lafayette came out of the bathroom, their hair blown dry and put up into a fluffy ponytail. They sat down on their own bed after picking up their phone, and started scrolling through something. Both of them didn’t say anything, instead enjoying the quiet of the last two days of Christmas break.

After some hours, someone knocked on the door. Alex dramatically sighed before standing up to open it. When he yanked the door open, he immediately became more annoyed. “Jefferson. Back from the break home with mommy and daddy?”

Jefferson stood in the doorframe, leaning against it. Her face was turned down and her hair hid most of it. Alex frowned when he realized that her large hoodie had blood on it, and how hunched over she held herself. “Is Gil here?”, she asked in a quiet voice. “Please, I … I’ve nowhere else to turn.”

She looked up, and Alex took in a sharp breath. “Fuck! What happened to you?”, he asked, pulling her inside. One of her eyes was swollen shut, her lip split open, and there was a large bruise that covered the left side of her face. Dried blood was smeared underneath her nose.

“Marie? Oh my god, Marie!” Lafayette rushed forward and took her hand, pulling her towards her bed and gently pushing her down on it. She still flinched when she was moved by her cousin. “Come here, mon ami. What happened? I thought you wouldn’t come until tomorrow morning?”

“I took the bus …” Her voice was quiet and afraid.

Alex was unsure what to do. He stood in the middle of the room, watching the odd pair that looked far too alike. “Should I get her a doctor?”

Marie sobbed. “Don’t …”

“But you need to see a doctor, Marie. You are badly injured,” Lafayette tried to reason.

She shook her head. “Don’t call me that, please. I can’t stand it anymore …” She buried her face in Lafayette’s neck, wrapping her arms around them.

Alex took a step forward, still unsure of what to do. “You mean ‘Marie’?” She nodded. “Okay. Jefferson it is, for now. Anything else?”

It was quiet for some time, the only sound coming from Jefferson’s ragged breathing. “Her,” Jefferson finally said. “She. Don’t call me that, please. I know it’s weird, I know, but I can’t …”

“Okay.” Lafayette shot Alexander a short look, surprise and worry clear in his face. “So, do you want to go with ‘they’, or …”

“He. I want to go with He … and Him.”

“Then He/Him it is.” Alexander went to the bathroom to get a wet towel, gently pulling on Jefferson’s hair so that he would lift his head up. “Come on, let’s clean you up a bit. And then we’ll take you to the nurse.” He gently wiped the tears and dried blood away.

Lafayette rubbed Jefferson’s back in the meantime. “There, there. It’s fine. Who did this to you?”

“My father,” he mumbled, taking the towel from Alexander’s hands and wiping it over his nose. “He found a notebook where I … wrote down some things.”

“That sucks, dude,” Alex sighed, sitting down next to him. “If you want to, you can borrow some stuff from me until you’re up to going shopping. Like, the pants might be a bit too short, but you can borrow a binder, if you want.”

Jefferson blinked in confusion. “A … what?”

“A binder.” Alex furrowed his brows. “You didn’t read up anything, did you?”

Lafayette shot Alexander a stern look, then smiled at Jefferson softly. “It is like … how should I explain? Similar to a sports bra. But instead of just holding your breasts, it flattens them, so that they are not really visible under a shirt.”

“And that works?” He looked from one to the other. “Wait, why do you have something like that, Hamilton?”

“I’m trans,” he shrugged. “I’ve been living as a guy since high school, when I moved in with Professor Washington.” He was a bit surprised that Jefferson didn’t know. But of course, he realized, they weren’t anything close to friends, so of course he had never told him. And Jefferson had probably never thought about anything related to being transgender, aside from Laf, of course. Him being from such a conservative family in Virginia and all, he had probably never had any contact with the topic before meeting Laf.

“You’re … you’re transgender? But … how … I never noticed.” He looked completely confused now.

Alex sighed and then smiled softly. “That’s because you shouldn’t. I try very hard to pass, you know? And I’ve taken hormones for one year now, so I’m relatively far into transition already. So … If you have any questions, just ask, I guess?”

The boy nodded. “Thank you. Both of you … thank you.”

Lafayette pulled Jefferson closer to himself. “Of course. That’s what family is there for, after all.”

 

*

 

“Welcome to the boy’s dorm!”

Jefferson grinned broadly as he looked into the faces of the people he had come to call his friends over the last few months. John wore a blue party hat on his fluffy hair, while Hercules held the hat over his mouth so that it looked like a beak. Angelica also wore a party hat, although hers was pink with yellow dots. Alexander held a bunch of light blue balloons, and Gil had a blue frosted cake in his hands, with green letters on it that read ‘It’s a boy!’.

“Guys … You’re so dorky.” He smiled warmly and set down his bag. “Thank you.”

The last three months had gone by faster than he could realize. He had never expected the people at college to be so accepting, but the students and even the professors respected his choice of pronouns, and no one ever called him ‘Marie’ anymore. He even got the allowance to move into the boy’s dorm as soon as a room got free, and when he had gotten the call that a student dropped out and left a single room for him to use, he could have cried from happiness.

Him and Alex had become quite close friends over the course of the last months. Completely overwhelmed by all the things he found out about, Jefferson was more than relieved when Alexander offered to go shopping for new clothes with him. He also gave him tips on save binding, and answered all questions that Jefferson had.

Gil was simply amazing. They hugged him almost non-stop, and when Jefferson received a message from his father that the man had stopped paying the college fees, Gil had given him the money without a second thought. “Just pay me back when you get your Granddad’s trust fund,” they had said. “You get it on your 21st birthday, right?” And that was that.

Now, Jefferson was sitting together with them in the common room of his new dorm. He felt warm, surrounded by his friends, eating chocolate cake and finally being himself.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Angelica sighed dramatically.

He shrugged. “Sorry? Believe me, it’s nothing personal.”

“I know, I know … Still.” She took out her phone and took a photo of him. “So that I don’t forget you when you’re away.”

He laughed. “I’ll just live across the cafeteria.”

Gil wrapped their arm around him. “So, Jefferson, you said earlier that you wanted to tell us something?”

He nodded, biting his lip. He was a bit nervous about it, but it was definitely the right decision. “I decided on a name.”

“Really?”

“What is it?”

“Spit it out, dude!”

He laughed again at his friends’ enthusiasm and excitement. “Alright, chill.” He stood up and turned towards them, smiling happier than any of them had seen him since the beginning of college.

“My name is Thomas Jefferson. It’s nice to meet you all.”

**Author's Note:**

> In the scene, Thomas' parents find out about the things he wrote down in the notebook. His father gets very angry about it, confronts him and, when Thomas confirms that he is indeed transgender, and beats him up. Then, he throws him out of the house.


End file.
